"Jackpot" rodeo draws high school contestants

The problem for some contestants in the National High School Finals Rodeo, which concludes Saturday at the fairgrounds, is that they just can’t get enough.

Bruce Rushton

While cowboys and cowgirls two-stepped the night away at Tuesday’s cowboy prom, a smaller group of teens gathered at a practice corral near the Coliseum at the Illinois State Fairgrounds.

The problem for some contestants in the National High School Finals Rodeo, which concludes Saturday at the fairgrounds, is that they just can’t get enough. A steer wrestler might travel hundreds or even thousands of miles for just a few runs in the big arena -- he’ll spend a week in Springfield to compete for less than one minute. And there are only so many belt buckles, saddles and scholarships to hand out.

It is, in short, a numbers game. But what happens at the practice corral helps make the numbers bigger.

At 10 p.m. Tuesday, the day’s official rodeo, the one where admission is charged, had just ended. But as 10 p.m. neared, golf carts and pickup trucks started arriving at the practice arena, picking vantage spots on a small hill. Kids on horseback gathered around.

Save for their boots, they didn’t look like cowboys. Gone were the colorful, never-seen-sweat work shirts and the fancy chaps. There were as many t-shirts and baseball caps as 10-gallon hats at ringside. There were no clowns, no advertising banners, no endless banter from aw-shucks announcers.

You can call it rodeo unplugged. They call it jackpot rodeo. And even though money is involved, it is, most definitely, not all about the benjamins.

Really, it boils down to tradition. These are unpublicized contests, held twice a day – at 2 p.m. and 10 p.m. – at which competitors ante up as much as $150 each, with the best splitting pots that can climb into the thousands of dollars.

“There’s jackpots everywhere,” said Sherry Compton, spokeswoman for the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association. “It’s informal competition, is what it is.”

Occasionally, someone shouted encouragement during Tuesday’s competition, but mostly competitors talked quietly among themselves as they waited their turns.

“This is what we do for fun,” said Aaron Hyatt, a 17-year-old steer wrestler from Alabama.

However, they’re not necessarily risking their own cash.

“Most of these kids are playing with Mama and Daddy’s money,” said Terry Simpson, whose daughter Lexus competes in barrel racing, breakaway roping and cutting.

The official rodeo may have glamour, but there is cachet as well as cash in the jackpot ring. Echoing the late Dale Earnhardt (who once said “Second place is just the first loser”), Hyatt said he would prefer winning a jackpot to finishing second or third in the National High School Finals Rodeo.

“I’d like to win both—how about that?” Hyatt said.

At $30 per contestant, winners in breakaway roping and steer wrestling weren’t going broke or getting rich on Tuesday. It was past midnight by the time the competition ended, time enough for everyone to put their horses away and get to bed before the 1:30 a.m. curfew.

Stakes were considerably higher Wednesday afternoon, when steer wrestlers paid $150 apiece for a chance to win. With more than 50 competitors, the pot added up to thousands of dollars, which ultimately was divided among the top six finishers.

Simpson and several other parents and steer wrestlers from Alabama were back, hoping for a bit of glory and a few dollars.

Ruthie Campbell of Robertsdale, Ala., whose son Kyle Irwin finished well back in steer wrestling in the official rodeo a few days earlier, listened intently as an announcer proclaimed times in a flat tone following the first two runs. The best 20 would advance to a final run to decide the contest.

“He’s in fourth!” Campbell yelled as she grabbed the arm of person closest to her. “We’ll take it. We’re doing good.”

All Irwin had to do was bring his steer down in a respectable time and he’d be in the money. The run looked good.

“Gosh dog, hurry. Give us the time,” his mother pleaded.

“Five oh nine, sixteen fifty-nine,” the announcer said in a flat tone.

Translation: 5.09 seconds for the final run, 16.21 seconds for all three runs combined, good enough for fifth place.

“That’ll help his ego,” Campbell said.

Irwin, 17, brought back an envelope filled with $500.

“Now, when I go home, I don’t have to say I didn’t do anything,” Irwin said. “It takes the edge off, let’s put it that way.”

Reach Bruce Rushton of The State Journal-Register at 788-1542 or bruce.rushton@sj-r.com.